


Hector's Old Hobby

by sweetiepie08



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiepie08/pseuds/sweetiepie08
Summary: As teenagers, Hector and Ernesto loved to write bawdy comedy songs together. Their hobby died off as they got older but wasn't completely forgotten. As it turns out, having a secret collection of filthy songs to you name can make life difficult, especially if you have a lovely but stern wife, a sweet little girl, and a best friend who loves to give you a hard time.





	Hector's Old Hobby

As teenagers, Hector and Ernesto had a secret favorite pass-time. Well, it wasn't a secret to their friends, but they certainly didn't ever let their mamas know. Hector and Ernesto loved to write bawdy comedy songs together, the filthier the better. Whatever left them breathless with laughter, they went with. They used turns of phrase which were equal parts impressive and repulsive. Their descriptions of debauchery could make a sailor blush. And, of course, once they hit on something both incredibly clever and maddeningly depraved, they just had to share it with their friends.

Their reputation for these songs followed them into adulthood. They'd still break them out on nights when they'd been drinking and wanted a laugh. Even though they never played them in public concerts, they were still discussed among the young people of Santa Cecelia, in hushed tones.

Their trumpet-player friend Mateo, however, had no such discretion. "I'm telling you, some of these songs were legendary at parties," he gushed to another musician one night while they tuned up in the plaza. "There was this one about a beehive in a brothel…"

"It was a honeycomb," Ernesto corrected.

"Right a honeycomb, and there's also this goat…"

"It was a donkey."

"Right, right a donkey. And anyway, the donkey…" Mateo burst into a fit of laughter before he could finish. "I can't even do it justice. They'd have to play it for you."

"Well then, let's hear it," said Samuel. He was new in town and hadn't had the chance to experience these sordid tunes for himself.

"Please, there are children around," Hector pointed out. He twisted a turning key on his guitar and gave it a test strum. "Besides, Senora Espinoza's flower shop is right behind us. I don't want to give the poor old woman a heart attack."

"Well, you'll just have to come over to my place after we play," Mateo suggested. "We'll have a few drinks and they'll play it for you. Oh, you should also play that one about the picky heiress in the cucumber patch."

Hector yawed and shook his head. "I don't think I'll be up for that tonight."

"Old man Hector's got to be in bed early," Ernesto teased, tuning his own guitar.

"Coco had me up at 5:30 this morning," Hector said, rubbing his eyes. "Her stuffed animals were getting married and of course, I had to officiate."

"Oh, that's rough, amigo," Mateo commented. "Such is life with a toddler. I know my nephew is up before dawn most days. I don't think my sister's had a full night sleep in 2 years."

"At least, when Coco goes down for her afternoon nap, so does papa."

"It was your choice to kill your social life so early," Ernesto put in.

"What's wrong with my social life? So far today, I've been to a wedding, traveled to Pirate Island, and had tea with the queen the buttercup fairies. What have you done?"

"Don't try to make me jealous of you wild lifestyle, hermano," Ernesto said with a smirk. "Let me know, though, if you ever need someone to take Coco off your hands for a few hours. Maybe you and Imelda can have some fun of your own? Of course, if you wind up making her a little brother, you'd have to name him after me."

"I think we're set with just the one for now, but thanks." Hector smiled and strummed his guitar. He loved his little Coco. She was his life, his world. He cherished every moment they spent together. But, to have a son too… He imagined teaching them both to play and all singing together as a family. The idea was appealing. Maybe someday, when they had a little more money and could afford to feed them both.

"I'm serious though. I could take her to the market, let her have sweets her mama won't let her have. I'm determined to make myself her favorite uncle."

"You have competition. Oscar and Filipe already do that."

Ernesto waved his hand dismissively. "Well, what good is being an uncle if you can't spoil your niece just a little?"

"This is all very sweet, boys, but how'd we go from notorious vulgarity to adorable children?" Mateo cut in.

"Vulgarity often results in children, Mateo." Hector put on a mischievous grin and waggled his eyebrows. "Don't you know how it works?"

Samuel laughed before saying "Whatever, I still want to hear about the donkey eating honeycomb in a brothel."

"No, no you've got it all wrong," Ernesto corrected. "The brothel keeper eats the honeycomb. The donkey eats-"

"Imelda!" Hector meant to slap his hand over Ernesto's mouth, but accidently smacked his best friend in the face instead.

His wife walked up to him, holding Coco's hand. As soon as she saw him, Coco let go of her mother and ran up to Hector. "Papa! Papa!" She squealed, running into her father's arms.

Hector scooped her up and kissed her on her cheek. "There's my beautiful family. How are you today, mi vida? Did you come to see papa play?"

"Papa, look!" Coco proudly showed off the bows on her pigtails. "They're pink like your suit."

"You're right! Now we match!"

His friends behind him let out a chorus of "Awwww…" and Hector rolled his eyes.

Imelda kissed him on the cheek and brushed her fingers through Coco's hair. "She's been telling everyone we passed that her papa was playing in the plaza tonight."

"Aw, that's sweet. Nothing like a cute kid for some free publicity." Ernesto laughed.

Hector's lips pulled into a grimace. He knew Ernesto was only joking, but he really didn't like the idea of using his daughter as a tool. With a sigh, he let it go and set Coco down. "Now, you be good for Mama," he said, kneeling before her. "What are you not going to do?"

"Umm…" Coco nibbled on a finger and looked off, deep in thought.

"You're not going to… run…"

"Run on stage."

"Right."

It'd been a problem ever since Coco started to walk. In fact, Coco took her first steps in the plaza while watching her papa play. She managed to wiggle away from Imelda and started toddling up to the gazebo. Admittedly, the ensuing interruption was his own fault. When he saw her, he stopped playing whatever song they were on and immediately lost his mind. He couldn't help it. His baby was walking and he needed to properly convey how proud he was. It didn't exactly hurt their performance. They got a round of applause when Hector started shouting that his little girl was taking her first steps. But, it did little to discourage her from trying again. Multiple times, Coco ran up on stage while Hector was performing. The audience would laugh, Imelda would have to run up to grab her, and Hector would have to stop to gently shoo Coco off the stage. He didn't mind the first couple of times. The audience always thought it was adorable and he knew it'd be something he could laugh with his daughter about someday. But he could feel Ernesto getting annoyed with this habit, and it honestly didn't look professional anyway.

"So, you remember that, and I'll sing you two songs before bed. Deal?"

"Deal."

"See you after the show, mi vida," he pulled her in and gave her another kiss on the cheek. "Look, there's Tio Oscar and Tio Filipe. Go see if they have some treats." Coco went running up to her uncles and, sure enough, Filipe pulled a candy out of his pocket for her.

"Two songs?" Imelda said once Coco had gone. "You know she gets wound up after concerts."

"Lullabies, Imelda. I'll put her to sleep, I promise," Hector vowed. Imelda gave him a skeptical look. It was true. After a concert, Coco came home bouncing off the walls and insisting she wasn't tired enough to go to bed. But her parents knew that a crash was right around the corner and she usually ended up throwing an overtired fit. "Look, I'll sit up with her if she's still awake. The show isn't supposed to go that late tonight."

"Speaking of late night concerts," Ernesto butt in, slipping an arm over Hector's shoulder. "Hector, I forgot to tell you that we've been invited to play the cantina on Friday."

Hector inwardly cringed. He hated when Ernesto did this. For some reason, he thought that if he sprung a concert on Hector last minute, and told Hector in front of Imelda, he'd be more likely to say yes. And he was right. The shear awkwardness of the situation squeezed a yes right out of him and occasionally left him with an angry wife to deal with.

"Friday? That's your birthday," Imelda pointed out. "Coco's got a surprise planned."

Oh a surprise, a surprise from his little Coco. His heart fluttered as he imagined what it could be. His little moment of wonder was dashed when Ernesto gave his shoulders a tight squeeze.

"I know, I'm sorry," Ernesto apologized. "But, it'll be past the little one's bedtime and I already said yes, so we are expected. Did I mention it pays well?"

Hector looked from his wife to his best friend and let out a weary sigh. "We could use the extra money, Imelda."

"It'll be after supper. You'll be there for Coco's surprise." This was not a question.

"Of course," Hector broke away from Ernesto's grasp and took up Imelda's hands in his, "and you know I'll make the biggest fuss over it no matter what it is." He kissed both hands which made her smile and blush.

"Alright," she reached for his face and left a kiss on his lips. "You boys have a good show."

[-]

Friday rolled around, which meant it was Hector's 20th birthday. Coco let him sleep as late as 6:15 and woke him with a chipper "Happy Birthday, Papa!" They spent the whole day together. They went to the market, and the plaza to listen to music. Imelda made him his favorite meal for supper and, after supper, it was time for Coco's surprise. Coco asked Hector to play Un Poco Loco on his guitar, but not sing. Instead, she sang for him and did a dance she made up. Hector welled with pride. When she finished, he immediately scooped her into his arms and planted a million kisses on her face. "You are a rare talent, mi vida. You'll be a famous dancer when you grow up. I know it."

Unfortunately, they couldn't celebrate long. Ernesto greatly exaggerated when he said the concert would start long after Coco's bedtime. Instead, Hector had to leave at 7:00 to make it before their set started. Ernesto was already there tuning up and Hector used his one diva moment in his life to show up fifteen minutes before they went on. Ernesto bit his head off as soon as he got there. He just sighed and hastily warmed up. It's not like he wanted to cut his own birthday dinner short.

Apart from that, their show went pretty well, considering Hector barely had any time to warm up. About a half hour in, he noticed Imelda sitting in the back with her brothers and holding Coco on her lap. Coco waved at him and his heart melted. They came out to surprise him. He figured they'd probably leave before the show was over as they were supposed to go pretty late, but he hoped he'd be able to tuck Coco in when he got home.

They finished the song they were on and Ernesto began speaking into the mic. "Before we go any further I just wanted to take the time to announce that our friend Hector here turned 20 today."

The crowd gave a cheer and Hector modestly bowed his head. This was unexpectedly sweet of Ernesto. Normally, Ernesto would get so wrapped up in a performance, he'd forget anything off stage existed. Of course, he knew it'd be followed by some gentle ribbing.

"Yes, but don't let his age fool you. He's actually an old man at heart. He won't go out for a drink with me and boys most nights because his kid gets him up before dawn. That's right, this stick with hair is a father. He may still look good, but don't get too excited, ladies. I'm afraid this young, hot thing has been taken for three years. Hector, what's it like getting married before you got to sew your wild oats?"

"Less itchy, I'd imagine." The audience laughed but he caught a quick glare from Imelda. _Shit,_ for a second he forgot Coco was here. Wit moved Hector's tongue before he could think better of it. _Eh, it'll just go over her head._

"Still sharp as ever," Ernesto laughed. "Well, mi hermano, I'm sorry you got so old at such a young age. For your birthday, I'm going to play you a song we wrote a long time ago. We were reminiscing about it the other day and you definitely know this one, so chime in whenever you feel like it."

Ernesto played the opening chords and Hector's stomach jumped into the back of his throat. Oh no. On no! Not this one! Not here! Not now! Not in front of Imelda! Worst of all, not in front of Coco! It was the Ballad of the Sweet Ass, and it was definitely one of the sickest songs he ever wrote. He was 16 and stupid and he thought it was hilarious at the time. Imelda knew nothing about it. He could only imagine how she'd react if she learned about his juvenile hobby in any other circumstance. Now, it was about to destroy his poor Coco's innocence. It didn't matter that it was his birthday, she'd kill him for sure.

Ernesto must not have seen that they were there. He'd have restrained himself otherwise. Maybe, Hector could get his attention before he got to the really dirty parts. He tried to lean into Ernesto's peripheral vision and made his eyes as wide as possible, trying to beam his panic directly into his friend's brain. _Come on! Conveniently awaken telepathic powers!_ Nothing. "Ernesto…" he whispered. "Ernesto…" It was no use. Ernesto was too busy listening to the sound of his own voice. _Damn self-obsessed prick._ He tried tapping Ernesto's ankle with his foot, but Ernesto just shot him an annoyed look and moved away.

Finally, Hector gave up on any notion of subtlety. He crossed the stage, hoping to just grab Ernesto's shoulder and whisper in his ear. He had to hurry though. So far, the song was just a brothel keeper, a donkey, a honeycomb, and some innuendo but it was about to get graphic. In his rush, Hector tripped over the mic chord and found himself flying toward Ernesto.

"The Madame said, donkey let me taste your honey, and I'll let you taste my-"

Hector, Ernesto, and the mic all came crashing down. "Cuál es tu problema?" Ernesto growled once he recovered.

"You can't sing that song, it's filthy!" Hector shot back.

"Well you wrote it that way!" The mic picked up Ernesto's words and they reverberated around the room.

Hector moved his finger in a swift arc and pointed sharply at his family in the back. Ernesto looked toward the back and cringed with his whole face. He shot Hector an apologetic look and waved sheepishly at Imelda who looked near-to-bursting with fury. "Hola Imelda. Didn't know you'd be here."

[-]

Imelda swept up Coco and left in a huff right after the disastrous song. Oscar and Filipe, who'd already heard the song before at parties, followed behind her. As they left, they gave Hector the kind of look usually reserved for the condemned. The way their sad, piteous eyes drooped, one would think he was stepping up to the gallows. Part of him thought he might as well be.

Somehow, Hector and Ernesto managed to finish their set and get paid, but they had to do a lot of bowing and scraping to get any hope of being invited back. Ernesto was at least nice enough to walk home with him. "Look, let me talk to her. This is my fault anyway. I'm the one who sang the song."

"True, but I'm the one who wrote it. Gracias hermano, but I'll just have to face the music." He let out a humorous tsk. _Face the music_ and this whole mess was about a song. It was nice he could still joke in his last moments of life.

They finally made it to his door and Hector let out a long breath. _Well, no sense in prolonging it._ He stepped in and saw Imelda sitting on the couch, reading a book. She looked when she heard the door and she flashed them her deadly scowl. She closed her book with a firm snap and marched over to them.

"Imelda, I can explain," Ernesto stammered, taking a few step back.

"Go home."

"Right." Without another word, Ernesto scrambled out the door.

Hector sighed. _There goes my back up._ Imelda, turned her glare on him and he gulped. "Imelda, I can explain," he blurted out, then immediately regretted it. Ernesto said the same exact thing and she wasn't impressed.

Imelda sneered and finally opened her mouth. "Of all the stupid, juvenile, tasteless-"

"Papa?" They both turned to see Coco, leaning in the doorway of her bedroom. "Papa, you're home," she said, rubbing her tired eyes.

Hector put on a soft smile and went over to her. "I'm sorry, mi vida. Did I wake you?" he asked, kneeling down to her eye-level.

She stood on her tip-toes to hug him around his neck. "I wanted to stay up until you got home," she yawned. He couldn't quite tell if she succeeded. "Papa, why did you jump on Tio Ernesto tonight?"

So, she did have questions. "I was just trying to tell him something and I tripped. It was an accident. No harm done." He hoped they'd all be this easy to answer.

She looked around thoughtfully, seemingly satisfied with this answer. "Why is Tio Ernesto itchy?"

 _Shit_. He glanced back at Imelda who gave him a glare that said, _This is your fault. You come up with something._ "Wh-why would you ask that, mi vida?"

"Cause you said you were less itchy than him…"

"Oh, well, it's because…um… Ernesto has fleas," he blurted out. "Now, why don't you go get nice and snug in your bed and I'll be in in a minute to sing you a lullaby, okay?"

Coco nodded and shuffled back into her room. Hector closed the door behind her and turned back to Imelda. "Listen Imelda, I didn't know he was going to sing that song. We were stupid, immature kids when we wrote it and-"

"How long ago?"

"Well, that one we wrote when we were 16."

"That one?" She asked "You mean there's more?"

Might as well be honest. "Yes, we started when we were about 15. Mostly, Ernesto would come up with the concept and I'd do the music and usually the wordplay."

"So, all those disgusting puns were yours?"

"Yes."

"Where are the rest of these songs? I know you write down every little tune that comes into your head."

Hector went over to the closet and pulled down a box of old junk. He fished around inside, pulled out a small, blue book, and handed it to Imelda. She scowled as she began to flip through it. He might as well sign his own death certificate now.

"I can't believe you'd write something like this. I thought you were more mature than this. I thought-" She stopped and let out a small snort which she tried to hold back.

Hector relaxed and let himself smile. He knew what that snort meant.

"No, no. I am above this," she said through barely-repressed giggles. She let a few more snorts escape, before she erupted into laughter. "Hector," she squealed, wiping away a tear, "this is awful."

"Which one are you reading, mi amore?" he asked, looking over her shoulder. "Ah yes, The Drunk Man and the Pig. A classic. Did you get to the second verse?"

She kept reading and the giggles kept coming. Soon, she was laughing so hard, she could barely keep herself up-right. She turned, clung to Hector, and chortled into his chest. Hector let out a laugh of his own and held her close as they broke down in hysterics together. When their cheeks and stomachs hurt from laughing, they finally let it die down and regained their breath.

"Okay, okay," Imelda said, smiling and wiping a tear from her eye. She'd completely lost the mood to scold. "Just tell Ernesto never to sing these in concert again."

"Will do," Hector answered, beaming. "Although, I think he learned his lesson after tonight."

"And, of course, Coco can never see this," Imelda said, handing him the book.

"I agree." Hector tossed the book behind him and it landed in the junk box with the thud.

"Well, now that that's settled," she held Hector's face and pecked him on the lips, "I think Coco's still waiting for her lullaby."

"What do you say, we make it a duet tonight? And then," he swept Imelda into his arms with a playful toss, "I'll spend the rest of the night sweeping you off your feet. I can't think of a better way to end my birthday."

Imelda wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "If you insist, mi amore."

[-]

"Hector please," Imelda laughed as he twirled her around, "I'm trying to make breakfast." It was the next morning and they were both after-glow happy, playing music on the radio while Hector tried to incorporate a few dance steps into their cooking.

"Papa, spin me!" Coco squealed, clinging on his leg. Hector got down on one knee, took Coco's hand, and spun her around and around until she collapsed giggling into her father's arms.

"Oh now, don't get her sick right before she eats," Imelda warned, pointing her spatula at them.

"I'm fine, mama," Coco said, holding out her hand so Hector could spin her again.

"No, no, she's right." Hector plucked Coco off the floor and set her down at the table. "That's enough for now. Breakfast is almost ready."

At that moment, the front door burst open and Ernesto sauntered in. "Good morning, Riveras. Just thought I'd stop by and make sure your marriage was still intact. By the looks of it, it's all good."

"We're doing fine, but thanks for your concern," Imelda answered, squeezing Hector to her side.

Ernesto turned his attention to Coco who was playing with one of her dolls at the table. "And how's my little niña today?" He reached down to tousle her hair, but she smacked his hand away.

"I don't want fleas!" she shrieked. She jumped down from the table and ran into her bedroom.

Ernesto paused, confused expression plastered on his face and hand still frozen in the air. Hector and Imelda looked at each other and broke out in a fit of giggles. Hector knew he'd have to explain and find a way to coax Coco out of her bedroom again. Already, he was formulating a story about how Ernesto got a special medicine and his fleas were gone. He also knew he'd have to deal soon with Ernesto huffing about the little white lie. But for now, as he held his beautiful wife and laughed at Ernesto's priceless expression, he couldn't help but think that 20 was going to be a very good year for him.


End file.
